


What just fucking happened?

by Dadzawa



Category: BnHA
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Bottom Bakugou Katsuki, M/M, Nudity, Partial Nudity, Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Top Kirishima Eijirou, but that’s because he’s hella tired and in more than a little pain, mentions of acid burns, now with porn!, so does Kirishima, theyre both pro heroes so like......think mid- to late-twenties?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-29 21:23:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18786484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dadzawa/pseuds/Dadzawa
Summary: Baku patches up Kiri and there's hella gay feels >:3





	1. Bakugou Pt. 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThatFunkyOpossum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatFunkyOpossum/gifts).



> Yes, literally every word was chosen with a purpose >:3 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> …except maybe a few at the end, idk man it’s a quarter after one (IM ALL ALONE AND I NEEEEED YOU NOOOOWWWW) and I am Tired™, but I didn’t want to go to sleep while leaving this unfinished.

Katsuki woke up to a knock on the door. For a moment he considered rolling over and ignoring it, but then he remembered that there was only one person who would wake him up at four fucking thirty in the morning. He groaned, rolled out of bed, and grabbed his first aid kit on the way to the door. 

Another knock came as he was walking down the corridor and he forced out a, "Hold up dumbass, I'm coming," through a yawn. Rubbing away the sleep crusties in his eyes, he unlocked the door and opened it wide enough to let Kirishima into his apartment. 

He looked good. Better than Katsuki expected, given it was four fUCK I N G THIRTY IN THE MORNING, and he had just came off patrol– it didn't even look like he went back to his agency to get changed, or patched up, or ANYTHING. Whatever fight he had been in must've been close by. There wasn't any visible blood, no bones out of place, not even that much damage to his clothes. But Kirishima wouldn't have showed up if he didn't need help. 

"Well?" Katsuki asked when he didn't move. "You gonna come in, or stand out there all morning?" 

" Ah...yeah, thanks, Baku." And he staggered his way into the apartment, kicking off his boots as he did, Katsuki shutting and locking the door behind them. He led Kirishima to the kitchen table, hearing his uneven footfalls on the flooring behind him. Due to the way he had been sagging, and now the limping, Katsuki had a fairly good idea where his idiot was hurt. But still, it never hurt to ask. 

"So what fucking happened, dumbass?" 

"Robbery three blocks away, that nice little jewelry shop? Villain had a– fuckin—" He blinked and yawned, then shook his head like a dog and picked up where he left off. "Villain had an acid Quirk, kinda like Mina's but different, I'm mostly fine but my left leg fucking hurts like a bitch."

" You got hard, right?" The second that sentence finished leaving his mouth Katsuki cringed slightly. Good thing Kiri was some mix of exhausted and in pain, to the point that he couldn't quite string together more than one coherent meaning at a time. He also became quite the pottymouth when that happened. Katsuki made the conscious choice to not think about what other situations might turn Kirishima into a pottymouth. 

“Yeah, mostly, but the last splash caught me by surprise.”

He flicked on the light and led him to the tall chairs around the island. "Take off your pants."

For a moment he questioned if Kiri had heard him, because he just stood there blinking at him owlishly. Then his eyes flew wide and he asked, "Uhhhh...c-can you repeat that? "

Katsuki rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. "You said it was your left leg, right? It's gonna be easiest for me to help if your pants are off completely. Just fucking do it dipshit, it's not that fucking deep." 

He very carefully didn't think about the fact that this was almost exactly how many of his best ~~and wettest~~ dreams started. Kiri stood there for a second or so longer, before slowly undoing his belt and dropping his pants. A few moments later, Katsuki had his best friend– and long-time crush– standing in the middle of his kitchen at five am, wearing nothing but his ridiculous shoulder gears, hero mask, and a pair of boxers. Tight boxers. Ones that left absolutely NOTHING to the imagination. Katsuki swallowed jerkily and turned away, setting down the kit in his hand and motioning towards the chairs. "Just fucking sit down already, lemme see..." He trailed off, knowing there was no good way to end that sentence. Thankfully Kirishima didn't say a word, just limped over and hoisted himself into the chair. 

He swung his leg into the opposite chair and settled it with a huff and a wince. Clearly it was hurting him a lot more than he wanted to let on. Katsuki hesitated for a second, unsure of the best way to situate himself, then decided to just fuck everything and knelt in front of him. 

The burn wasn't bad, but it was BIG, and Katsuki resolutely decided to focus on that and not the fact that he was on his knees in front of his best friend, who was currently wearing only a very thin pair of boxers. He shoved the thoughts aside, fought the redness in his cheeks down, and worked on cleaning and disinfecting the wound. At the first touch of the antiseptic wipe, Kiri hissed and tried to pull away. Katsuki grabbed his thigh firmly and looked him dead in the eyes. 

"Stop. Moving. Do you want me to fucking do this or not?" 

While waiting for an answer, Katsuki struggled to not focus on the heat of Kiri’s thigh under his palm, or the proximity of his face and Kiri’s dick, or the fact that neither one of them had looked away or blinked yet and wow, was his thermostat broken? Because it was suddenly _really fucking hot_ in his kitchen. 

“Yeah,” he finally answered, voice barely a whisper. “Keep going.” 

Katsuki simply nodded, not trusting his voice to support a verbal answer, and went back to work. After he finished cleaning it, he frowned at his supplies. “Do you know what kind of acid it was? I don’t want to put anything on it that might make it worse.”

Kirishima blinked up at him. “Uhh…I don’t think it matters? Cuz all the acid is off my leg now, right?” 

“…Shit you’re right. Fuck, hold up…” And he reached for the burn cream, yawning as he did. Everything was silent, until he touched the cream to his leg. And then. Ohoho. _And then._ Kirishima _moaned_ at the first touch of the cooling, soothing cream to his burn. The sound traveled straight to Katsuki’s dick and he inhaled sharply, ducking his head so Kiri couldn’t see the flaming shade his face went. 

_Goddamnit Katsuki, he’s here to get patched up. Don’t bring your thirst into it, for fucks sake!_

Kiri didn’t make any other sounds, and Katsuki didn’t dare look up until after the burn was wrapped in clean gauze and bandaged neatly. Then he stood, knees slightly creaky, and asked, “You gonna stay the night?” 

He rose, too, and tested his weight on his leg. “You sure it’s ok? I know it’s kinda late…”

“It’s early at this point, dipshit. It’s like five thirty by now.”

“Ah…so, then, I guess I’m staying?”

“Fuck yeah you are. Go set up the couch, I’ll get you some fresh clothes and get rid of these.” He gestured vaguely at the pile of tattered and burned pants and ass cape in the corner, then turned and walked to his bedroom. 

There was a pile of blankets on the couch but no Kiri when he got back, pajamas in his arms. He frowned, then noticed the light streaming from the bathroom. Katsuki pushed open the door and immediately froze, unsure if he should curse or thank the universe, because Kirishima was very, _very_ naked and dripping water and washing his hair and the rest of his very well-muscled body–barring the bandaged leg–in Katsuki’s shower. 

Katsuki dropped the clothes and quickly shut the door.

 _Jesus fuck, you’d think you never saw him naked before. You’ve been getting changed in the same room for years, dumbass, why is NOW such a big fucking deal?_ To help ease his frazzled nerves, Katsuki returned to his kitchen to bag up the ruined outfit and make them both some food. 

Said food was just about done when Kirishima walked back into the kitchen, hair down and smelling like Katsuki’s shampoo, dressed in Katsuki’s baggiest fucking clothes– but he was so much bigger than Katsuki that they were straining at the seams. He yawned, then frowned and walked up behind Katsuki. “Why are you making food now?”

“I mean, if you’re not fucking hungry you don’t have to eat, but this is about the time I get up anyway.”

“No, I’m starving. Thanks bro.” Then he yawned, right in Katsuki’s ear, and leaned his head on his shoulder, closing his eyes and getting comfy. He looped his arms around his waist and leaned in even farther, nuzzling into the side of his neck. 

It was so fucking domestic, for a moment Katsuki just turned and looked at him. And the more he looked, the more he thought about grabbing Kiri’s face, turning his own just a little bit farther, and kissing him. He’d been in love–because it WAS love, by this point, there was no getting around that–with this dumbass for more years than he cared to count, and every time he even so much as thought about saying something, or doing something about it, his fucking redhead would say something like “You’re my best bro, Bakubro!” or “Man, I don’t know what I’d do without you!”

Katsuki would never, _ever_ do anything to jeopardize their friendship. 

So he turned back to the food, and pushed his desires away. “Get off me idiot, there’s a pair of chairs and the island literally three steps away. Don’t be fucking lazy.”

He groaned and hugged him tighter. “But Bakugooou, you’re warm and comfy…”

He prayed that Kirishima couldn’t feel his heart rate skyrocket. Roughly, he shrugged him off and moved to plate the food, tossing “Then eat, and you can get under the nice warm blankets and be a human fucking burrito or whatever you call it,” over his shoulder as he did. 

“ _Not_ a ‘human fucking burrito’, just a human burrito,” he shot back sleepily. “Why would anyone want to fuck a burrito? It sounds super messy.” He sat, eyes closed, and started eating mechanically, barely opening his eyes enough to ensure the food got on his fork and the fork made it to his mouth. Katsuki slid into the seat next to him and did the same, except with a cup of coffee to help keep him awake. The only sound beyond their chewing was Kirishima’s occasional sleepy hum in between bites. 

_Cute._ He shut it down, added the thought to the mountain labeled To-Be-Buried. 

He was working on it, ok? 

After they finished, and Katsuki did the dishes, he changed into his running gear and walked into the living room. “Alright shithead, I’m going for a run, be back in like an hour ish, sleep here as long as you need, just don’t break my fucking couch in your sleep AGAIN.”

Kirishima was barely visible, just a tiny flash of red at one end amid mountains is pillows and blankets. A sleepy mumble escaped the cocoon, and Katsuki chuckled softly under his breath. His idiot was adorable when he was sleepy. 

_Not my fucking idiot, and he’s not fucking adorable. Ignoring the tiny scar above his eye. And the way he pouts in concentration doing his hair for the day. And the smile he always gives me when he’s proud of me. Yeah, aside from that he’s not fucking adorable._

Katsuki sighed, slipped on his shoes, and grabbed his keys. Who was he kidding? He thought his best friend was adorable, especially with that I’m-barely-awake voice. “I’m out, bye.”

As the door was shutting behind him, he clearly heard a sleepy “Bye Bakugou, I love you,” slip through the rapidly-narrowing crack between the door and the doorframe. He stood and stared, wide-eyed, at the doorknob for a solid thirty seconds before he thought to lock the door. 

_Did– what just fucking happened?!_

Needless to say, he had a lot to think about on his morning run.


	2. Kirishima, Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened after Kiri woke up~
> 
> THE RATING HAS CHANGED!! IT IS NOW EXPLICIT!!! THE FIRST ~900 WORDS ARE SFW, BUT EVERYTHING AFTER THAT IS SOME DEGREE OF HOT AND STEAMY!!! 
> 
> Just so you know :3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I woke up with this entire thing plotted almost perfectly in my head. And with how many of you were asking for more in the comments, well, I just HAD to post it ;D
> 
> Enjoy the filth~~~

Eijirou woke up to the sounds of a slamming door, rustling plastic bags, and copious amounts of muttered cursing from the entryway. He was disoriented for a moment, then remembered the previous night. The fight with the acid villain. The painful walk to Bakugou’s. Bakugou patching him up, then leaving for a run. And Eijirou remembered—

Oh. 

Oh, _shit._

For a moment he considered rolling over on Bakugou’s very comfortable couch and going back to sleep again, if only to delay the awkward conversation that would follow. How does one say, “Yeah I’ve been in love with you for years and I just never said anything because I don’t want to distract you from being the top hero, not to mention you probably don’t even feel the same and I REALLY regret saying it but hey, the words are out now, what are you gonna do and oh by the way you got any fruit loops” to your best friend? 

Eijirou grumbled to himself and tucked his head farther back into the blankets, curling tighter into a ball, and tried to think positively. _Hey, maybe this was all a dream! I never sleepily confessed to Bakugou, I just fell asleep outright and we’re still cool. Yeah. I also totally didn’t spoon him when he was making me breakfast._

He didn’t believe himself. 

_Fuck. Fuck, fuck, double fuck, fuck on a stick with an unhealthy coating of fuck._

The rustling at the door moved to the kitchen, and Eijirou heard Bakugou call, “Get up, dipshit, I didn’t haul my ass over to the grocery store for you to be a bum and sleep on my fucking couch all damn day!”

Despite his thoughts, Eijirou grinned, relieved that his best bro was acting normal. He lay there for a few moments more, relaxing into the idea that he really _hadn’t_ said what he thought he said. _Why would Bakugou be so cool with me after I just dropped my unwanted feelings at his feet?_

“I’m serious, asswipe! Get your ass in here or I’m not making you lunch!”

The threat of withheld food drove Eijirou to face the world outside his blanket cocoon– he almost fell face-first into the kotatsu on his way off the couch, but caught himself on the edge and shuffled into the kitchen. “G’morning, Bakugou.”

He snorted, not looking away from the fresh veggies he was arranging in his crisper. “Think again, idiot. It’s two in the afternoon.”

“Mm. That explains why you threatened my lunch and not my dinner or something.” 

“Stop talking and get to work or you won’t get lunch.”

Eijirou laughed and turned to the bags on the island. “Yessir!”

They worked quickly, and in a matter of minutes all the food was put away. Bakugou started the stove up and pulled out some noodles Eijirou didn’t recognize, leafy green stuff from the crisper, and some of the fresh meat. 

Eijirou knew he would just irritate Bakugou with his inadequacy if he tried to help with lunch, so he sat at the island and lost himself in the lines of his body and the cute pout of concentration on his face as he worked. The food was almost done when a thought occurred to him and he frowned. “I thought you had a patrol this afternoon?”

“I did, but I called out for today. If they need me they’ll call or something, but my sidekicks can handle most things that come up.”

“Ah.” Eijirou wisely didn’t comment on the fact that Bakugou took a sick day simply because of him, but the knowledge warmed his heart regardless. 

“Here. Eat up dipshit.”

“Thanks, bro!”

They ate in relative silence, broken only by Eijirou chattering away about anything and everything that came to mind. Bakugou contributed a grunt or monosyllabic reply occasionally, but Eijirou could tell he was being quieter than usual. He didn’t pry, just let him sit on whatever he was thinking about until he was ready to put it to words, and kept up his end of conversation. It wasn’t until they were standing side-by-side at the sink doing the dishes together that Bakugou spoke up. 

“Did you mean what you said when I left this morning?”

Eijirou stopped and looked at him blankly, fighting back the sudden panic. “What did I say?”

He could see the swallow, the hesitation, but Bakugou continued anyway. “You said– you love me.”

It wasn’t a question but it felt like it, and suddenly the air felt heavy and full of tension that shouldn’t be there. Eijirou took a moment to curse Sleepy, In Pain Eijirou for not having a fucking filter, then turned to face his best bro fully. He took a breath. 

He took another. 

“Yeah. I mean it. Didn’t mean to say it, not like that, but I mean it.”

“Not just as a friend.”

Slowly, he shook his head and dropped his gaze from Bakugou’s piercing red eyes. “Definitely not just as a friend. I’ve been in love with you for years.” He laughed awkwardly, hand coming up to scratch at the back of his head and beginning to turn away. “I’ll leave if—”

Bakugou caught his hand by the wrist midair. “Leave and I’ll fucking kill you.”

Eijirou froze. Every thought in his head that wasn’t about analyzing Bakugou went silent, and everything else went into overdrive, carefully breaking down his stance, posture, expression, tone of voice…everything. What he found was astounding. 

His stance was set, as if he were fighting something back, back straight, shoulders set, unafraid. He wasn’t quite looking Eijirou in the eyes, instead focusing on his chin– _or my lips_ – hand holding his wrist firmly but gently. Despite what he just said, Eijirou could hear the uncertainty, the invitation behind his words. He dared to hope. 

“Then what do you want me to do?”

Bakugou dropped his hand and met his eyes at last, and Eijirou saw raw need there. “Touch me.” The words didn’t waver but he saw the flutter in his throat as he swallowed. Eijirou shut off the water and turned fully, taking a step closer, backing Bakugou into the counter. Oh so carefully, he lifted his hands and placed them on Bakugou’s hips, sliding them slowly up his sides to his chest and shoulders. He tilted his head down, grazing his nose along his neck and jawline, doing nothing but touching. 

“What else do you want me to do?”

“Kiss me,” and the words were breathless, almost gasped out, as Eijirou slid his palms over Bakugou’s nipples. He turned his head slightly and planted one, two, three, along the curve of his ear towards the hinge of his jaw. 

Bakugou brought his hands up and grasped at Eijirou’s biceps, digging his fingers in. “Kirishima,” he whined– _whined_ – insistently, turning his head to face him. “ _Kiss me._ ”

And how could Eijirou possibly deny him when he asked so nicely?

Their lips met with a _clack,_ violently and with teeth. They both winced and pulled back slightly, Eijirou chuckling softly. “Sorry,” he whispered, then leaned in again, moving slower and with more restraint. That restraint was lost as soon as he ran his tongue along Bakugou’s lower lip, and Bakugou parted his lips and sucked it into his mouth. 

Eijirou shuddered and moaned into the kiss, running his hands underneath Bakugou’s thighs and hoisting him bodily onto the counter behind him. He whimpered and wrapped his legs around Eijirou’s waist, hands traveling from his arms to his hair. 

When they parted for air, Bakugou gasped, “Bed. Now.”

Eijirou picked him up and stumbled blindly to the bedroom, Bakugou’s ankles locked in the small of his back, hands in his hair, kissing like they needed the other to breathe. He kicked open the door and dropped Bakugou on the bed, crawling on after him and settling himself between his legs, turning his attention to the space around Bakugou’s ears. 

“How—” kiss “comfortable—” kiss “are you—” kiss “with marks?”

He exhaled, long and slow, into Eijirou’s ear and replied breathily “So much fucking more than comfortable, mark me, please, how– nn– how about you?”

Eijirou pulled back and smirked down at him. “Do your worst, Bakugou Katsuki.” He was gratified to see his eyelashes flutter, then he was tugging at the hem of his shirt. 

“Take this shit off.”

He laughed darkly, sliding his hands under Bakugou’s tank top and rucking it up to his nipples, rubbing and pinching them between his fingers. “Only if you do.”

Beneath him, Bakugou writhed and panted, then glared up at him. “Shitty hair I swear if you don’t get this fucking shirt off in the next ten fucking seconds—”

“Calm down, I’m going,” he rumbled, pulling away and flinging his shirt to a corner of the room. He returned his attention to Bakugou, still fully clothed– a situation he planned to change. He nibbled and licked his way along Bakugou’s toned chest, making his way to one of his nipples, pushing his top up and off of him as he did. Bakugou helped somewhat by finishing the job just as Eijirou’s mouth claimed his nipple and _sucked._

That drew the first moan Eijirou ever heard from him, and he quickly decided that he wanted to hear more. Lightly scraping his teeth along the nub, one hand traced around Bakugou’s opposite areola and the other hand stroked along his happy trail to the front of his joggers, and the sizeable tent already forming there. He smirked around the nipple in his mouth and palmed it, chuckling at the barked curse and involuntary hip jerk he got in return. 

Humming now, he pulled his mouth off Bakugou with a _pop,_ hand still working his dick and nipple. “Lube? Condoms?”

“Bed-bedside table, the draw-er, fuck—”

 _It’s adorable, watching him try to keep his cool,_ Eijirou thought as he turned to the nightstand and opened the drawer. He pulled out the half-empty bottle of lube and a condom, laying both on the covers next to him before sliding it shut. Biting, licking, sucking dark marks into the pale flesh of Bakugou’s torso, Eijirou worked his way down to the top of his pants and mouthed at the tent there. Bakugou gasped, and his hands flew to his hair and settled themselves there. He smirked and pulled off, working his fingers under the waistband and yanking them down and off, boxers and all.

And he stopped, drinking in the sight before him: Bakugou Katsuki, aka Number 2 Hero Ground Zero, was bare and panting on his bed, legs spread, dick standing fully erect and curved slightly towards his abs, flush staining his cheeks and neck. Eijirou stared for a moment, awestruck. 

“Look at you,” he breathed, “you’re perfect.” Bakugou’s breath caught in his throat and he lifted his hips at the praise, searching for friction that just wasn’t there. 

“Jesus fuck, Kirishima, don’t just fucking stare at me, do something!”

“As you wish.” Eijirou continued where he left off, mouthing at the head of his cock, lapping up the precum beading at the slit. He hummed around it, feeling the hands in his hair tighten their grip and adjust for a more secure hold. He held his hips down with both hands and smirked at the frustrated groan he got in response. 

Pulling off, he started nipping lightly along the seam between Bakugou’s thigh and groin, working his way to his hole, working as much saliva as he could to the front of his mouth. He wasn’t going to be using just spit as lube, hence the bottle on the bed, but if he had the opportunity to eat Bakugou Katsuki out he would fucking take it. 

When he felt those strong thighs bracketing his head, Eijirou couldn’t help but rut against the bed himself. _God, Bakugou could fucking crush my head with his thighs, and I would thank him for the pleasure._ Instead of thanking him, though, Eijirou stuck his tongue out and traced lightly around his asshole, feeling the muscle flutter underneath him, hearing the broken gasp from above. 

“Kiri– fuck, keep going…”

He hummed, flattening his tongue and licking a long, hot stripe up to his balls, then returning to his entrance and nibbling lightly around it before pushing just the tip of his tongue past the first ring. He ate him out just like that, slowly working his tongue deeper and deeper in time with Bakugou rutting his hips against his face. His face was getting sloppy with drool, but the sweet sounds Bakugou was doing his level best to muffle with only one hand made him forget to care. 

Eijirou left one last, lingering, open-mouthed kiss and leaned back, wiping off the drool and spit coating his chin and neck. Bakugou was panting, legs twitching, biting the back of his hand to muffle the tiny moans and whines. Eijirou reached gently up and moved his hand away, saying, “Let me hear you.”

Bakugou let it fall to the bed, opening his eyes and glancing at Eijirou through a vision clouded by lust. “Hah– is that– all you fuckin-fucking got, idiot?” 

Eijirou raised an eyebrow and reached for the lube, pouring a copious amount on his fingers and rubbing them together to warm it up some. He smirked, looked him dead in the eyes, and leaned in close when he whispered, “You tell me.”

Then he slid the first two fingers in. 

Bakugou stiffened beneath him, eyes going wide and rolling back slightly. Eijirou let him have a few moments to adjust to the sensation, then slowly started pumping in and out, in and out. He peppered kisses along his shoulder and chest as he did, wanting to distract Bakugou from the strangeness until it melted into pure pleasure. When he started moving his hips, chasing the fingers, Eijirou started scissoring them smoothly. He knew exactly how loose Bakugou would need to be before sticking his dick in. 

He didn’t want to hurt Bakugou. 

After a few minutes of scissoring, he added a third finger and started curling them gently, looking for his prostate. He had a vague idea of where it was, based on his own experiences, but he wanted a better look. 

Bakugou gasped and arched his back, fingers clawing into the blankets beneath him. _There it is._ Eijirou was careful to not hit it too often: he didn’t want Bakugou cumming too soon, after all. 

He added a fourth finger, more for safety’s sake than anything else, and when Bakugou panted, “I’m ready, I’m ready,” he pulled out and stood up, shucking off his pants and boxers in one swift movement, sighing at the friction and the cool air on his aching dick, and returning quickly to where he left the supplies. 

First was the condom. He opened it and rolled it on, resisting the urge to fuck his fist but relishing in the attention to it. Then he grabbed the bottle and thoroughly coated it in lube, warming it up a little. 

Eijirou grabbed Bakugou’s hip in one hand and lined up with the other, kissing him gently. He didn’t want to stop, but he gave Bakugou one last chance to reconsider. “Are you sure?”

He glared at him and hooked his legs around his waist, pulling him closer until the head of Eijirou’s cock popped inside. Both men moaned at the sensation, and Bakugou growled breathlessly, “I’ve been waiting for this ever since fucking UA, of course I’m sure dumbass.”

Eijirou grinned brilliantly and kissed him again, murmuring, “Me too,” against his lips. He rocked his hips and heard Bakugou suck in a stuttering gasp. 

“K-Kiri—”

“Eijirou,” he interrupted, softly scraping his teeth along Bakugou’s earlobe. “I want you screaming ‘Eijirou’ when I make you cum.”

“Nnn, Eijirou…fuck, please, more…” Hearing Bakugou beg so prettily made something primal and more than a little sadistic in Eijirou growl in pleasure. He rutted in a little harder, a little deeper, pushing in an inch or so more, relishing in the full-body shiver and accompanying moan he got in return. Letting him adjust to the fullness, he rained kisses and hickeys all across his chest, paying special attention to Bakugou’s nipples until he started rocking his hips right back. A sweet litany of _please_ and _more_ and _oh fuck, Eijirou, **fuck me**_ fell on his ears and he grinned, finally pushing in to the hilt, hips flush against Bakugou’s plump ass. Licking and nibbling his way up his neck, he whispered, “I’ve never heard you have such good manners before, Bakugou~” He shifted his hips experimentally. “I think I like it.”

Bakugou pulled back slightly and glared, though it was undercut by the pretty red flush covering his entire face, neck, ears, and the tops of his collarbones. “Sh-shut the fuck– hng!”

Eijirou cut him off by thrusting, properly, grinning in wicked delight at the way his eyes fluttered shut underneath him. Bakugou moaned and tipped his head back, mouth falling open, tiny huffs and pants forced out of him in time with Eijirou’s deep, languid thrusts. He took full advantage of the access to his neck, biting and sucking marks all over the smooth, pale column. Bakugou’s huffs turned deeper, throatier, his fingers curling and digging into Eijirou’s hair and back. 

With every thrust, Eijirou adjusted his angle slightly, searching, searching…

Bakugou nearly _screamed_ and arched up into him, fingernails digging crescents into the flesh of his back. Eijirou smirked. “There you are.”

Keeping that same angle, Eijirou picked up his pace, thrusting harder, faster, deeper, whipping Bakugou into a frenzy of whines, moans, and cries of _Eijirou, Eijirou!_ Those good manners made a reappearance, moaned in tones of sweetest honey. Eijirou decided then and there that if he had to hear only one phrase for the rest of his life, it’d have to be Bakugou screaming _please Eijirou, yes more_ just like that.

He readjusted their positions, hooking one leg over his shoulder, bracing himself on one forearm and snaking his other hand down to Bakugou’s neglected cock. He whined and bucked into the touch, and Eijirou himself groaned and rolled his eyes shut at the way his asshole clenched around him. 

He rested his forehead against Bakugou’s shoulder, stilling inside him, pumping gently. “Fuck, Bakugou,” he huffed against his shoulder, fighting so damn hard to not bust a nut right then and there, “you feel s-so goddamn good.”

“K-Katsuki, call me Katsuki– nn! Fuck, Eijirou, I love you too, please, fuck, _move_ —!”

“Katsuki,” he moaned, thrusting in again and jerking his cock in time. Hearing him _say_ it…given the way Katsuki had reacted after Eijirou confirmed his feelings he’d suspected, but to hear him say it aloud was…overwhelming. He set a brutal pace, praises falling from his lips like rain, like diamonds, telling Katsuki exactly what he’d thought of him all those years. 

His moans grew in volume and intensity until he was almost shrieking, heels pushing into his back. The blunt fingernails of one hand etched furrows so deeply into Eijirou’s back that he knew he’d be sporting the marks for a week at least, while the other hand worked its way into his hair and _pulled,_ sending sparks of pleasure dancing down his spine. 

Before losing himself completely to the pleasure coiling in his gut, he spared a thought for whatever poor neighbor had to hear the rocking of the bed frame against the wall. Then he was lost, diving headfirst into the moans and _I love you_ s from Katsuki. 

The only warning Eijirou got before he came was a whine and a clench, then there was a splash of sticky, salty cum shooting over both their torsos. He fucked him slow and deep through the aftershocks, littering chaste kisses all over his face, neck, and chest until blowing his load in the condom. 

He slowed, stopped, and hovered above Katsuki for a moment, drinking in the absolutely _gorgeous_ picture Katsuki made below him, basking in the afterglow. His pale hair was plastered to his temples, fanned out around his head on the pillows, face wet and eyes still glazed. Eijirou felt a lurch in his chest, sweet and painful, and he reached up to cup Katsuki’s face and leave a kiss on those sinful lips. 

Carefully, he pulled out and slipped off the condom, wincing at the slight oversensitivity. He tied it off neatly, planted a sweet kiss on Katsuki’s forehead, and rolled off the bed, padding to the bathroom to get a warm, wet rag to clean him up. 

When he returned, Katsuki was sitting up and looking far more alert, prodding his ass and thighs gingerly and wincing slightly whenever he found a particularly tender spot. As Eijirou approached, he looked up. 

“You don’t fucking hold back,” he rasped, sounding completely fucked-out. Unashamedly, Eijirou grinned. _He_ did that. To _Bakugou Katsuki._

“Did you want me to?” He asked, settling next to him and starting to gently wipe off the rapidly-cooling cum. 

“Give me that,” Katsuki snapped, grabbing the cloth and wiping at himself. Upon noticing Eijirou’s grin widening, Katsuki grumbled, “Wipe that smug look of your face, dumbass.”

“Aww, what happened to ‘Eijirou’? I like hearing you say my name, Katsuki~.”

He shot him an unamused glance from under his lashes, then snorted and went back to cleaning himself. “You didn’t sound so bad yourself, with the ‘Katsuki’ this and ‘Katsuki’ that.” Finished, he looked for a moment like he was going to get up and toss the dirtied rag into the laundry bin. Eijirou intercepted him and pushed him back into the pile of pillows. 

“Hey, Katsuki, are you free Saturday night?”

“Yeah, should be. Why?”

“Cuz I’m gonna take you on a date.”

He hummed thoughtfully, relaxing some into the pillows. “And what if I wanna take you on a date, huh?”

Eijirou shrugged. “Then do it. But I’m taking you on our first one.”

“Fine. Now help me get to the bathroom, I’m gonna take a bath.”

He perked up. “I’ll come with you!”

“Not with that fucking leg, you’re not. Just help me get there, you fucked me so good I can’t feel my goddamn legs.”

He smirked and scooped Katsuki up, bridal-style. “Well if it’s my fault, it would be super unmanly to make you walk there!” And he carried him into the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, I think this is the fastest I’ve ever written 4k words. I’m proud of myself and also more than a little terrified tbh

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know how to care for acid burns and it shows. 
> 
> Did you like it?? Drop a comment screaming about The Big Gay™ with me!!! They’re the only thing this puny mortal soul subsists on


End file.
